


She's Mine

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, F/M, Omega Reader, Vampires, hunter reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: “Take it. Take it! Come on, just a taste. Open your mouth. Open. Open! You’re mine and you know it.” You were shaken like a rag doll, the male vampire’s voice grating over your nerves and making your heart hammer. “You’re mine! Mine, you hear? Open your mouth and take it. You’ll be mine!”"She’s mine."Your heart lurched, skipping out-of-time for a moment. The new voice was entirely familiar in its low, raspy cadence.





	

Hay rustled, bits of straw balling up beneath your boots. Steel flashed, silvery edges painted with thick red. Dark eyes sized you up, glinting with animalistic hunger. Blood-streaked lips peeled back from jagged teeth, making way for the wet snarl that clawed its way up from the vampire’s throat.

You readied yourself for the inevitable attack, knees bending and palm cradling the comforting weight of the long-handled machete in your hand.

“C’mon, come and get me.” You crept closer, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The sentries had been easy enough to handle. They’d been unaware of your presence, falling quickly and quietly to your blade. Sam, Dean, and Castiel had filed into the barn after the path had been cleared. Another vampire had been dispatched by a stealthy stab from a syringe of dead man’s blood and a beheading.

The fourth, though, was proving to be a bit more difficult.

She was wily, avoiding every swipe and stab you sent her way. She had yet to make an actual move for escape or attack. Those were the openings you were looking for. Either would leave her vulnerable for just a moment. That was all you needed.

Boots stomped overhead, sending plumes of dust floating down from the old ceiling. There was a loud thud followed by a grunt. You ignored it, pursuing your own prey.

“I know you’re hungry. I can see it in your eyes. I bet you haven’t fed for days. I bet that’s all you want, huh? Blood? You just wanna sink your teeth into me and drink until you can’t anymore, right?”

The vampire backed away, fingers curled into claws and lips quivering around a snarl. The walls were closer abruptly. It would restrict your movement if it came to a scuffle. There’d be enough room for maybe one short swing of your machete before you’d have to resort to stabbing and retreat.

Well. You’d just have to make the swing a good one, then.

“Come on, then. You want me so bad? Come and get me!”

Something crunched behind you. A shadow loomed, blocking out the light from the mouth of the hallway. The vampire’s eyes narrowed, mouth edging into a shark-like smile that had fear skipping down your spine.

You leapt forward with a yell, swinging your weapon. The blade caught on her shoulder instead of passing through her neck when thick arms banded around your chest.

The machete was wrenched away, clattering to the ground as you kicked out at your captor’s shins and knees. Hot, putrid breath washed over the side of your neck. Too-long nails scraped over your wrists.

With a well-aimed elbow to the ribs, you managed to free one arm and free a syringe from your breast pocket. Glass glinted in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling above. Dark liquid clung to the vial’s insides.

Too-strong fingers circled your wrist, pressing hard enough that your cried out and dropped the syringe. Ragged nails and ungentle hands pawed at the collars of your clothing. Rancid breath made you gag even as you struggled to fight and free yourself.

“Look how she fights.” The bigger vampire’s voice was distinctly male. A trace of a foreign accent made his words lilt. “Such a pretty, little wildcat; all hissing and spitting.”

The buttons on your jacket gave way, popping free at a harsh yank from unseen hands. You lashed out, managing to land a few solid punches before the male vampire snarled and pinned your arms fast.

“Oh, ho. Yes, you’ll be the first of my new family. Really, it’s only fair after you killed two of my wives. And a fine one you’ll make, at that. All that fire and fight…”

Wet lips pressed against your ear. A clammy tongue crept out, lapping along the lobe. You struggled against the vampires’ holds, writhing with every ounce of will you had. A rough hand clamped over your mouth and nose, stifling the cry you let out for help.

“Yes, yes. You’ll be mine. All mine, little wildcat.”

One arm disappeared. The sickening sound of flesh tearing came, making your stomach turn. You knew what came next and you fought with renewed vigor.

Elbows crashed into ribs and bellies. Knees collided with hips and groins. Boots hit shins and slammed down on feet. Knuckles smashed into jaws and noses and eyes.

But it was a losing fight. After a short scuffle, they managed to pin you again. A bloody palm was shoved against your mouth, bitter wetness smearing over your pursed lips as you fought to get away.

“Take it. Take it! Come on, just a taste. Open your mouth. Open. Open! You’re mine and you know it.” You were shaken like a rag doll, the male vampire’s voice grating over your nerves and making your heart hammer. “You’re mine! Mine, you hear? Open your mouth and take it. You’ll be mine!”

“She’s _mine_.”

Your heart lurched, skipping out-of-time for a moment. The new voice was entirely familiar in its low, raspy cadence.

Hot liquid spattered over your face and neck before the male vampire’s grip went slack and fell away. There was an ear-splitting shriek from the female before it was cut off with a wet noise. Warm hands encircled your upper-arms, ushering you out of the hallway and into the light of the barn.

“Y/N.”

You opened your eyes, blinking against the weak light filtering through the slats of the barn’s walls. You lifted one hand, sleeve drawn over your wrist and scrubbed the vampire’s blood away. The coarse canvas made your skin burn.

“ _Y/N_.” Castiel’s voice sounded different…off.

You glanced up, trying to regulate your body’s shaking and the unsteady breaths your lungs seemed intent on taking.

The usual unwavering blue of his irises was gone, turned dark by the eclipse of his pupils. The planes of his cheeks were stained with a creeping flush of pink that tinted the hints of skin beneath the collars of his clothing. Sweat made wayward tendrils of dark hair cling to his temples. His chest heaved shallowly, nostrils flaring with every breath. Every few moments his body shook minutely. His usual storm-and-sea scent had gained a new, sharper edge that made parts of you wake up with sultry stretches. Most damning of all was the evident bulge of his erection under the thick layer of his jeans.

“Something is wrong.” Castiel’s fingers clenched in the fabric of your jacket. “I feel…I’m feeling out-of-sorts.”

Rut.

Castiel was in _rut_.

After he’d fallen, you, Sam, and Dean had briefly discussed the likeliness of Castiel’s presentation. Angels hadn’t ever seemed to present in any way, regardless of their vessels. It’d come down to the decision to watch and wait and see if Castiel developed any signs of presenting. After a year, none had come.

Until just then, at least.

There was no denying the heavy, musky edge to Castiel’s scent.

The beginnings of arousal curled low in your belly, slick  making its appearance as you called for Sam and Dean. Castiel scented the air, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing as you tried to gain some distance.

This was Castiel’s first rut. He was just reacting to you because you happened to be the only omega around. That was all. It surely wasn’t because he returned the feelings you harbored for him. There was no way. He was, or had been, an angel. He was centuries old and more intelligent than you would ever be able to fathom. He was power and grace, even made mortal in a human vessel. He was brilliant and bold and beautiful and your were just mundane, after all. A human, a friend, a hunting companion. That was all.

“Upstairs is all clear. Y/N, Cas?” Dean’s voice echoed before himself as he clambered down the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah. Castiel finished the last down here. But, um…We have a situation.” You took another step back, tugging on your jacket sleeve when Castiel’s fingers refused to loosen their grip.

Castiel only followed you, eyes latching onto with a heated sort of intent that made your insides squirm. The rut-scent grew stronger with every passing moment. It made your breathing catch, raising hell with your determination to stay away and not make a fool of yourself when Castiel made it clear it was just his rut talking.

Both brothers stopped dead at the foot of the stairs, finally catching scent of the issue.

“Shit.” Dean huffed eloquently. “I owe Charlie twenty bucks.”

Sam pulled a face and carefully edged closer. Castiel’s fingers tightened infinitesimally on your coat sleeves.  

“Castiel? Do you know what’s happening? How do you feel?”

Those storm-blue eyes flicked away from you, finally. They grew unfocused for a moment before fixing on Sam.

“I feel…Feverish. Aroused. My mind is…It’s becoming increasingly difficult to think clearly. I believe I am experiencing what humans call ‘rut’. This- _my_ body is that of an alpha, so I presume that what I am experiencing is its- _my_ natural cycle.”

“It’s like sex ed all over again,” Dean muttered, then, louder, “Hey, okay. Listen up, buddy. We’ll get you back to the bunker, set you up with some toys, skin mags, porn, whatever makes your gears turn. You’ll be a-okay in a few days.”

Dean walked as he talked, striding across the room easily. Sam trailed behind him, eyes taking in the situation carefully. The closer they grew, the tighter Castiel’s hold on you became. His body inched in front of your’s in some hormone-induced instinct.

“I don’t…I don’t want those things.” Sweat darkened the hair at Castiel’s nape and wetted the collar of his shirt. Despite the heat of his rut, the skin on the back of his neck was prickled with goosebumps.

Dean chuckled, shrugging amicably. “I feel ya. But it’ll be better than nothing for your first rut, plastic and silicone or not.”

Castiel’s breathing had grown choppy and uneven. He’d practically drawn you behind him, shoulders tense and body quivering. Worry made your gut churn. The first wave of his rut had to be close. If he wasn’t out of here and in the bunker with some sort of relief by then, he’d be in a world of hurt.

Sam was using Dean as a distraction you realized. He was slowly, carefully edging close to you, brows arched earnestly.

“No. I…I don’t want those things. I don’t need those things…I want…I need…”

“I know, I know. Come on, we’ll get you what you need.” Dean stepped closer, eyes flicking over your shoulder to where Sam waited in case things went south.

Castiel’s spine straightened and his head whipped around. You could see the moment baser instinct took over. Something low and threatening rumbled in Castiel’s chest as he backed you toward the wall. Even as undirected toward you as it was, the noise made goosebumps prickle along your arms and the back of your neck.

“ _She’s mine_.”

The words were an echo from earlier, making hope flare hot and high in your chest before you tamped down on it.

You reached out, carefully resting your fingers on Castiel’s shoulder-blade. Even through the layers of his clothing, the heat of his rut warmed your skin.

“Castiel.”

His head half-turned toward the sound of your voice, growl cutting out momentarily.

“This is just your rut talking. You don’t want me, not really. Sam and Dean can help you more than I can-”

“No,” The word was harsh, making your words cut off. “Want you.”

Heat pooled in your belly and chest, hope fluttered in your lungs. Still, there was no way…

Castiel turned, head canting and eyes roving over your face. “Always wanted you, Y/N. Beautiful. Kind. Brilliant. _Mine_.”

What? Always? That was how he…?

Castiel pressed forward, hips rocking needily as his nose pushed along the curve of your jaw. You nodded at Sam and Dean over his shoulder.

You’d take care of Castiel for the first wave. Maybe it was just the rut talking. Maybe it wasn’t. Hope was a hard thing to ignore, even if your own selfishness played a part in it.

The Impala’s engine roared to life, idling for a moment before fading down the dirt road.

With the threat of other Alphas removed and your acceptance and approval, Castiel lost himself to his rut.

His lips opened over the pulse in your throat, teeth scraping skin and pulling blood to the surface as he huffed against your neck. Hands pawed at buttons and zippers, working impatiently to get at skin.

“Castiel,” You whispered his name, tugging on the lapels of his coat as he fumbled with the fly of your jeans.

He made a low sound of acknowledgement, though his attention seemed to be stuck on the fastest way to rid the both of you of your clothing as quickly as possible. Heat poured off his body. He let out a frustrated noise, hand catching in the space between two buttons of your shirt.

As if in answer to the wild tones of Castiel’s rut, your own body began to respond in earnest. Warmth spiraled down your spine, sparking before spiking into a blaze as Castiel parted the halves of your shirts. Hot, slightly-roughened palms shoved at your jeans and underwear. You helped where you could, kicking one boot off when the denim tangled up around your ankle. His coat was cast aside, buttons of his shirt popping free and spattering over the hay-covered floor when he grew impatient. The fly of his jeans was wrenched down, halves parting to display tanned skin and the trail of dark hair that arrowed low. Already, a spot of wetness bloomed at his hip, soaking through denim.

Castiel drew closer, body caging you against the rough wood of the barn’s wall. Warm breath washed over your chin and neck. Heavy-lidded eyes roamed over your body, pupils so blown only the barest hint of blue shone in the weak sunlight.

Your own eyes fluttered shut when he leaned in close. Slightly-chapped lips met yours, a little off-center but still warm and eager. You corrected his angle by the simple expedient of threading your fingers through his hair, lips parting at the insistent press of his tongue against the seam of your lips.

At the first brush of tongues, Castiel let out a low, husky sound that made your body arch against his. Slightly-roughened fingertips climbed the ladders of your ribs, stroking up and down with increasing pressure.

With a wet noise, Castiel pulled back from the kiss, returning to the mark he’d left on your neck earlier. The huffing growl that rumbled out of his throat was all primal satisfaction and pride. Your toes curled as his mouth descended lower. The pads of his fingers crept up, sliding over the cups of your bra before hooking in the tops and baring your breasts.

You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair, at the first lap of his tongue over one nipple. Spurred by your reaction, his mouth closed around the swollen bud, sucking strongly.

“C-Castiel!”

Slick pooled between your thighs. Castiel’s hips pushed forward instinctively. The hard line of his erection ground against your hip. The heat thrumming through your veins sparked hotter, making your mind hazy with want. You pushed back, lifting one leg to hitch you knee at his hip. You wanted, needed…The tiniest amount of friction garnered by the rolling of your hips had you mewling.

Castiel released his suck, knuckles brushing against your belly before slipping into the space between your legs. Color flooded your cheeks when his fingers slid through the arousal there. His fingertips dipped into your entrance slowly, curiously.

You moaned, hips valiantly trying to thrust down for more. Your fingers scrabbled for purchase, nails dragging over the expanse of his bare back. The heel of his palm butted up against you roughly as he pushed his fingers deep.

“So wet…” Castiel’s sounded wrecked, rut making his already rough voice turn raw and wild.

He punctuated his statement with a series of quick pumps from his fingers, making your mouth drop open and your breath leave in gasping mewls.

“For you, ah! Please, Castiel. Want you, need you. _Please_.”

Castiel’s body shook, the hand on your hip tightening for a moment. He pulled away, shoving at his pants. The denim slid to his knees, catching there as his hands cupped the backs of your thighs. With a quick heave, he hitched your legs around his waist.

The head of his cock nudged at your entrance, causing the pair of you to cry out. Castiel’s eyes caught yours, blue having almost vanished. His lashes fluttered at the first tentative rock of his hips.

You rolled down on the next thrust, breath hitching on a moan. Castiel pushed deep in one long, slow movement. He was all heat and big and so, so good.

Castiel wrapped one arm around you waist, fingertips digging into your side hard enough that you knew there’d be bruises there later. The notion made fire leap under your skin. His free hand lifted, fingers tangling in your hair and urging your head down for a kiss as he started to move.

There was no real rhythm, just a steady, slow build as Castiel pushed into you. All coherent thought abandoned your mind. Castiel panted against your neck, breath fanning over dampened skin sensitive from his teeth and tongue.

Your nails traced red paths over his shoulders and back. His hair curled around your fingers. His lips were kiss-swollen, reddened and shining. Pink colored his cheeks and the top of his chest. Debauched, low little noises kept dropping from his lips; groans and gasps and growls that drew answering sounds from you. Best of all were the disbelieving murmurs and rumbling hums of your name peppered between every other thrust.

Pleasure built low in your belly, tongues of flame flaring outward and ever higher.

“ _Castiel, Castiel, Castiel_.” God, you were so _close_. “Please. _Ungh_! Please, Castiel. Knot me. Please, knot me. Please, _ah_!”

Something akin to a snarl wound up from his throat, rumbling against your skin as his grip tightened. His pace grew disjointed, hips thrusting erratically as little growls issued from between his teeth. You could feel the beginnings of his knot catching, sensation only serving to stoke the fire in your belly higher.

“Y/N…Ah! _Mine_.”

“ _Yours_ ,” You moaned, head kicking back.

Castiel’s mouth fastened over your pulse, sucking strongly. His hips stuttered, knot popping. His cock pushed deep, length twitching as he cried out against your skin.

You came, his climax triggering your own and causing you to writhe in his hold. White-hot pleasure making you shake apart in his arms.

Gradually, you returned to yourself, body still trembling with aftershocks.

Those big blue eyes greeted you when you finally pried your lids apart. Color still stained Castiel’s cheeks. His hair was a wreck, tendrils sticking up at odd angles. Selfish pride wormed hot through your chest. You’d made him look like that.

“Y/N? I apologize. I lost control. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Fingertips ghosted over the teeth-shaped bruises that surely ringed your neck.

The question doused whatever warmth still simmered in your veins. With the first wave of his rut over, would Castiel still feel the same way? Had his words stemmed from the animalistic need of rut? Had his actions? What if it’d just been his rut, after all? What if he didn’t feel that way at all?

As pleasurable and wonderful everything had just been, you wanted to get away from whatever this was - from whatever was about to happen. But you were stuck, Castiel’s knot still tied within you, hot and wet and…

You tamped down on the swirling misgivings and tried to ignore the way you could still feel him twitching inside your body.

“No. No, you didn’t hurt me. I-I’m fine.” You swallowed, dragging your gaze away from his.

There was a beat of silence, heavy and thick.

“ _Oh_.” The exclamation was soft, choked with horror.

Your head jerked up. Had Castiel been hurt in the fight? Was he in pain? Was there another wave of rut already?

Castiel’s eyes were wide, mouth drawn into a grimace as his grip loosened on your body. He leaned away as far as he was able. Without his warmth, goosebumps raced over your skin.

“What? Is something wrong?”

His breath rattled, catching slightly.

“I- Y/N, I didn’t…Please- I didn’t mean to force you. That was not my intention. Will never be my intention-” Sheer horror and panic laced his words.

What?

“No! No, Castiel. You didn’t-It wasn’t- If anything I took advantage of you. And it was wrong of me. So wrong. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have and I don’t expect you to forgive me or-”

“What?”

You blinked, stomach tying in knots.

“I…I’ve always had feelings for you, Castiel. I never thought I’d have the chance to share…Intimacy with you so when you, ah, when your rut hit…I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…” Castiel leaned forward abruptly, crushing your body to his chest. His nose pushed against your neck, breath stuttering slightly. “I meant every word of what I said, hormone-addled speech or not. I do care for you. Deeply. Very much so. In no way, shape, or form did you take advantage of me.”

Joy made your heart leap. A smile tugged at your lips, undeniable as a new kind of warmth suffused your chest.

You reached out, carding your fingers through chaotic tangles of dark hair. Castiel’s eyes dipped to half-mast, lashes fluttering in pleasure. His hands flexed, pulling you impossibly closer.

Experimentally, you clenched your body. Those pink lips parted around a wordless groan as his cock twitched, another orgasm pulled from him as your body spasmed around his. You leaned close, lips brushing his ear.

“Does this mean that you’ll mate me on the next wave? Give me your bite as you knot me again?”

Shivers raced along his spine as he finally stilled. A low, hungry sort of growl emanated from his throat.

“You’ll have me?” Despite the alpha promise threading through his voice, those earnest blue eyes waited for your approval.

You nodded.

“Always.”


End file.
